Bones and Stones Chap 20

The third floor of Fenward Dungeon had grown quieter. Not empty—never that—but watchful. Like the dungeon itself was waiting.

Valen stepped through the familiar corridors, now under the mantle of his new class: Spellblade. His mana pulsed with a natural rhythm, like a heartbeat woven into the world itself. Wind followed his steps. Sparks flickered off his blades even when idle.

But he wasn’t here to admire his growth.

He needed gold—enough to pay for a carriage out of Fenward and finally begin his journey.

He needed to kill the third floor boss.

And for the first time, he felt uncertain.

Not fear.

But anticipation.

Like the dungeon had prepared something… different.

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By the time he reached the boss chamber, his bag was heavier—cores, hides, and gems stuffed inside. He could already smell profit.

But it wasn’t enough.

Not yet.

He stood before the wide, rune-carved gate. It had always radiated power, but today? The stones hummed.

Valen drew a breath, gripped both hilts of his Spider Fang Duel Blades, and stepped forward.

The doors groaned open.

What waited beyond was not what he expected.

No beast. No shriek. No shifting limbs.

Just… stillness.

A massive circular chamber, its center dominated by a cracked stone platform—no lava pits, no spikes, just layered tiers of worn rock.

And atop them?

A statue.

Ten feet tall. Mismatched stone segments made up its body—obsidian, granite, limestone, and others he didn’t recognize. Its joints glowed faintly with blue veins of magic. Its head was half-broken, revealing a core of swirling energy.

Valen’s breath caught.

This wasn’t a regular golem.

It was something worse.

[Boss Monster – Cracked Golem]

Type: Elite Variant

Level: ???

Threat Rank: Extreme

Abilities: Multi-Element Resistance, Core Regeneration, Structural Reformation

Appraisal activated. His eyes flickered silver.

—Weaknesses: internal ruptures, heavy weapons

—Healing Method: Uses dungeon mana to pull stones from the environment, reattaches parts during combat.

—Tactic: Must destroy core directly. Exterior damage will be reabsorbed unless internal mana is disrupted.

Valen tensed.

“This is going to suck,” he muttered.

Then the golem moved.

Not slowly, not clumsily—violently.

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It leapt down, stone feet shaking the floor. A shockwave pulsed out. Valen jumped back, boots sliding across gravel.

The fight had begun.

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The golem charged.

No roar, no warning. Just movement like a falling tower.

Valen sidestepped, but the golem’s arm whipped out like a catapult.

Boom.

He barely blocked in time—Duel Parry locking both blades against the crushing limb. His knees bent. The force still sent him sliding backward.

“That thing hits harder than the spider,” he hissed.

The golem spun, sweeping its foot out. The terrain cracked beneath it. Valen leapt, flipping forward.

“Spell Weave: Voltus!”

Lightning arced along his left blade. He twisted mid-air, slicing downward toward the golem’s exposed core—

Clang!

It spun its torso unnaturally fast. An obsidian plate rotated into place, deflecting the strike.

Valen landed, barely avoiding a counter-fist.

“This thing’s evolving as it fights,” he realized.

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Ten minutes in This monster is completely fine.

Valen’s cloak was shredded. Blood dripped from a gash along his ribs. His mana was at 40%. He panted, circling the golem, which now had molten stones integrated into its arms. He’d used Arcblade Surge to blow off its knee earlier—

It had reattached it.

Using rubble.

He had to end this. Fast.

“Origin Power,” he whispered.

A pulse burst from his chest.

The world warped.

Colors grew vibrant. Time slowed. His thoughts sharpened.

His blades ignited with white fire.

The golem seemed to sense it. It backed up. Slowly.

Valen advanced.

Echo Step.

He vanished, reappeared mid-air.

Phantom Slash.

The afterimage tore through its shoulder.

The arm detached—again.

Valen landed, rolled, and launched a Rift Spiral.

The spinning, high-speed cyclone of slashes carved a deep trench into the golem’s chest. The spatial distortion made the stone crack and shriek—

But still, it stood.

Its core flickered.

Mana surged through its body.

Stones from the floor trembled.

Then flew.

They shot into its chest. Its limbs. Its head.

It was healing again.

“No, you don’t.”

Valen screamed. “ARC—BLADE—SURGE!”

He rushed forward, infused both blades with unstable mana.

He struck once—

Twice—

Then leapt, flipped, and drove both weapons into the golem’s chest.

The mana flared.

Then imploded.

KA-THOOM!

The core shattered.

The golem froze.

Cracks spread across its body—glowing, widening, until light burst from its every seam.

Then—

It exploded.

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Valen was thrown backward, slamming into a stone pillar hard enough to leave cracks.

He lay there.

Not moving.

Not because he couldn’t—but because he didn’t want to.

His body was wrecked. Cuts, bruises, internal pain.

But he was alive.

And it was dead.

A small chime echoed in his head.

[Boss Defeated – Cracked Golem (Elite Variant)]

[Level Up: 26]

[Level Up: 27]

[Level Up: 28]

He groaned, rolling to his knees.

“Never again,” he rasped.

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Ten minutes later, he stood before the drops.

There weren’t many—this boss hadn’t been flashy.

But what it did drop was rare.

* Golem Core – Cracked Variant (Extremely High-Grade Magic Catalyst)

* Obsidian Mantle (Legendary Heavy Cloak) – Grants +15 Defense, minor Earth resistance, +1 passive regen.

* Cracked Stone Emblem – Proof of Third Floor Boss defeat.

* Gold Pouch x2 – Totaling 27 gold.

Valen blinked.

“That's… enough for a carriage. A horse. And gear.”

And more importantly—

Enough to leave.

He placed everything into his spatial bag and stood.

His legs trembled.

This was the hardest fight of his life.

Even with the new class Spellblade.

Even with Origin Power.

He needed to drink some mana and healing potions and probably should’ve used the bone sword.

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Back in Fenward, the stars hung bright in the night sky.

He didn’t go home right away.

Instead, he walked the streets, slowly, cloak wrapped around him. People were asleep. The village was quiet. Peaceful.

But not for him.

He’d outgrown this place.

At the guild, he sold the extra loot—cores, fangs, stone fragments. The attendant stared when he handed over the Cracked Golem token.

“You finished the 3rd floor??”

Valen just nodded.

He left with 31 gold after the sale.

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The next morning, Valen stood beside a private carriage at the edge of Fenward.

His parents were there. Elyse wiped tears from her eyes. Clyde kept his arms folded but looked like he might break.

“I’ll write,” Valen said, adjusting the strap of his bag.

Elyse hugged him. Clyde passed him a rolled-up scroll. “Map of the trade routes. Don’t trust the eastern bridge. It’s old.”

Valen smiled. Just a little.

He climbed into the carriage.

The door closed.

Wheels turned.

The village of Fenward faded behind him.

And with it—his childhood.

He hadn’t just survived that part of the dungeon.

He had conquered it.

Now, the world would hear his name.

Valen, the Spellblade.